Feets, don't fail me now.

Kameron came to town this weekend. First time for The Lovely to watch him overnight (2 nights, actually), and she needed my help with lifting and maneuvering and such.

Normally, I am not so keen on babies. Holding babies, anyway. They seem so ... fragile or something, and when I have a baby in my arms, it is as if I am afraid to move.

But Kameron is different. He is 4 months old today, and he is a chunk. Stout. Not fat, or even chubby, really, just solid. With a big round head/face that reminds me of Charlie Brown (early Charlie Brown, when his face was more oval). And not much hair, just like Chuck.

Holding Kameron, I am not afraid to move. Hoist him up on my shoulder and I am good to go.

And, as it turns out, he likes me.

How do I know?

For starters, he burped the most awesome burps after I fed him. And all I had to do was set/sit him on my lap and lean him forward just a tad and tap on his back a few times, and, "Baaaa-aaaawp!"

Prompting The Lovely to ask, "Was that Kameron, or you??!"

: )

And then, not long after one of his countless feedings (every 3 hours, ON the hour), he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around my right index finger, leaving about an inch of the tip, and crammed my fingertip into his mouth and started sucking. Nearly choked himself, even!

The 2nd night he was here, after I had fed and burped him, he acted a little fussy so I laid him on the couch between us. He kept looking up and back to see me, and I started rubbing his mouth with my fingertip, and before long, he was letting me rub his upper gum. And all the while he was cooing and smiling and loving it.

"He's teething," she told me.

"We're bonding," I told her.

Welcome Back, Kotter

I find these on my desk Thursday on my first day at work in six: Azaleas from a woman from here who now resides in Viva, Las Vegas, and seemed pretty keen on the idea of taking me to lunch next time I am out there, thanks to the Community page article about and photo of her I ran a couple of weeks ago, and a CD titled "Morels & More 04" from the same boy who played "Happy Birthday" for me on the violin this year and last.

And the gifts make me smile.

And then, within the next 45 minutes, I find out that because of a hideous mistake in last week's court report, the newspaper is likely going to be sued "for slander."

Naturally, all my Comm. Law knowledge kicks in and I quickly assert that "you canNOT sue a newspaper for slander; you sue a newspaper for libel." Which requires that you prove something in the newspaper:

1. Is false.
2. Is published with malicious intent.

Nice way to start the work week, I say.

: )

This doesn't seem like Thursday.

Quickie post because I have just come up with The Ultimate Reason for Not Blogging Regularly:

My butt hurts. From being in a chair too many hours today/tonight. And NO, not only whilst surfing the 'Net: Too many hours at work today/this week, including tonight during a school bored meeting.

(Yes, oftentimes I misspell words on purpose. Along with using words like "oftentimes" that I probably would never say aloud. I do say "whilst," however, every chance I get.)

; )

A couple of days ago when I was waiting at the McDonald's drive-through, I watched a guy dig. Road expansion for the thoroughfare leading to the new Wal-Mart SuperCenter. And I thought to myself (just realized how redundant that statement is: "thought to myself ... DUH!), maybe it would be a cool to have a job in which you work very hard, physically.

Random observation: Just saw a blurb on ESPN's Outside the Lines that the Lakers are 3-0 in games before which Kobe has made a court appearance. How neat!

: (

That's all. I've got warm sheets calling my name. And my bed is THE most comfortable bed on the entire planet.

: )

It ain't rocket surgery.

And yet, any time I figure out one tiny piece of HTML, I feel as if I have cracked some top-secret code.

: )

This time, I figured out — since Dashboard was of absolutely NO help whatsoever, telling me my profile photo had to be a GIF or JPEG (hey, what part of .JPG is NOT a JPEG??!) — how to bring my photo from the previous site. And the words that go with it. Honestly, I don't know quite how aware I was of having a baby sister at that point in my life, but I do like how happy I seem to be there in my little inflatable pool.

Every time I look at those old photos, and ones older than that, I am amazed by the quality of the black-and-white pictures from long ago. And then I look at the color 5-by-7 photo I printed earlier of the clover on my medium-quality inkjet printer (the Lexmark X83) — and granted, I need to change the color cartridge but am trying to squeeze every last drop out of the one I have — and the quality is total crap!

I know I will get a decent print, but still. How long will these photos hold up? Is there any way that, 50 years from now, the ink will still be vivid? Will there be any images at all?

Will it matter?

For now, my thumbs hurt.

I'm looking over ...

I had been wondering when (and if) I was going to find a four-leaf clover this year. Seems like I always find one, every summer, usually when I am not necessarily looking (kinda like love, eh, those elusive lil' lucky charms), usually when I happen to glance down — and there it is! — and I pick it and press it between paper or cardboard, between the cards in my wallet, and I forget about it until I hit a bad patch (of life, not clover), and then I think, hmmm, isn't that four-leaf clover doing me any good?

Or months later, when I rummage through my wallet, perhaps because I have decided I need a new one, or maybe because I feel the need to rearrange my "valuables" (heh), and the clover falls out.

Anyhoo, I found this one Sunday when I was helping the boys set up the croquet court. And Shane (that is his hand in the picture; he was surprisingly delicate with the clover, which we decided not to pluck) seemed impressed to see a four-leaf clover. And wouldn't you know it, an hour or so later, I found another one.

: )